Just me typing from a void into this box and out to the world for you. A not very bold experiment in old school democracy. Free press. Free peas. Equal helpings of panache and bloodlust. Seeking followers and detractors. No purchase necessary.

Friday, November 15, 2013

You remembered me before
you could remember who
I was & this the dense
terrain of heart & bone
in our reflection, wood-
paneled walls, a sprig
of thyme, too many under
a fog & and a dalliance,
these things make
a cathedral to the now
that was in photographs
& dusty furniture, our
"thing" past or beyond
the reach of what once
mattered. This dark
matter, those old people,
standing in a queue,
they are us.